Cold mists and paper clips
A minuscule vapour cloud
Covers a story, neatly filed

Streams had dreams
The river knew of
Gently flowed into the bay

Warm water springs
The freezing cold lake
Shares the revelry

A beauty to behold
Damp air and Crystals of salt
Into the pan, white

At dawn from misty mountains he came.
A thunder from the blue! his name.

○☆♢☆♡☆♢☆○
She sends her love
She sends her love down
into the Mother
that holds her dearly
pressed deep within layers
crystalline veins
become fingers of light

beneath the surface
precious stone
purple points of symmetry
down through darkness so dark
ancient dreams she remembers
She sends Her Heart
Heart Pure

She sends her love
She sends her love down
into the Mother  
that holds her dearly
millenniums of rotation
meld together in perfect form
full, round and firm

layers upon layers of
bones, stones n' trees
leaves laden with mud
pressed dense n' deep
beneath the surface
orbs of precious stone
purple points of symmetry

crystalline veins
become fingers of light
tunnels of silver
copper and gold
milleniumms of rotation
meld together in perfect form
full, round and firm

stones trees n' bones
mud laden with leaves    
pressed deep n' dense  
down through darkness so dark
ancient dreams She remembers
She sends her Heart
Heart Pure

fingers of light
Illuminating
the Warm Core  
Beating Heart of the Mother

  ☆○♢☆♢▪♡▪♢☆♢○☆

Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved

At nightfall, in the midst of silence,
The sky turned,
Into a sheet of gray,
And droplets of rain,
Pleasantly came sprinkling down,
Making tranquil musical sounds,
Appearing to entertain.

Landing upon an adorned bed of roses,
In hues of reds, yellows,
Pinks and whites,
Lightly spreading their delicate petals,
As crystalline beads,
Gently dripped onto the ground,
In a soft melody.